


A Sword For a Heart

by RocksCanFly



Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: And as usual Artemis Crock is the one who calls bullshit, Breaking Up & Making Up, Dick Grayson is Trying, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kaldur doesn't know how to People (TM), Loneliness, M/M, Post-Invasion, References to Depression, Roy Harper can be an ass sometimes, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocksCanFly/pseuds/RocksCanFly
Summary: Hero life often involves tough decisions, and Kaldur has never been anything less than practical.(Fives time Kaldur made a hard choice, plus one time it was made for him)





	A Sword For a Heart

**Author's Note:**

> @ Greg Weisman: be nicer to kaldur u fucking coward

_1) becoming Aqualad_

Kaldur was fifteen the day Ocean Master struck down King Orin. Garth and he had been sent to the palace on an errand by Queen Mera. They had hidden when the fighting had started, knowing that their duty was to stay out of the way of the warriors who protect the King.

Those warriors were dead. In the corner of his eye Kaldur could see a cloud of red rising from behind a piece of the wrecked palace. He and Garth were hidden, crouched behind a garden wall in the palace courtyard.

Kaldur surveyed the scene, Garth breathing heavily beside him. He looked at Ocean Master, terrifying in his armor with he trident in his hand.

Kaldur was a novice, not even anywhere near the best in his class. Ocean Master had just stuck down King Orin, the most powerful warrior in Atlantis. Kaldur had no chance of defeating him. He’d die.

“What do we do?” Garth whispered. His voice was small the way it hadn’t been since their first deep trench patrol, back in the days when they were in the same squad in the militia. Garth had been raised on a sea shelf, never far from the light. He was terrified of the dark.

Kaldur had been raised in Shayeris, where volcanic vents provided warm water that allowed valuable plants to flourish. His mother has taken him to the pitch black depth of the vents often, cautioning him to avoid the dark caves and the ancient creatures that lived there. She taught him how to navigate the dark, how to use it to his advantage. It was just another environment—treacherous is he was ignorant, useful if he learned to read it.

He had lead the way for their squad that day, had guided them through.

“We fight,” Kaldur said to his friend, willing a blade to form in his hand. He stopped himself, slamming the door shut on his magic as his tattoos began to glow. The light would give away their position.

He would have to form the weapon as he attacked. He’d never done it in less than ten seconds.

He would have three.

Garth inhaled deeply, let it out slow. He looked as terrified as Kaldur felt. “We’ll die.”

Ocean Master was approaching King Orin’s unconscious body, trident glowing in his hands. Ocean Master could kill their King from a distance, but something Kaldur saw in the man’s tensed shoulders told him Ocean Master wanted to do it close. Personal.

Kaldur was fifteen, and so was Garth. They were novices who stood no chance against an enemy like Ocean Master.

But their King was in danger, and there was no one else.

“Then we die as true citizens of Atlantis,” Kaldur replied, reaching over to squeeze Garth’s shoulder. “Courage, my friend.”

Garth nodded, swallowing. “Alright. For Atlantis.”

Kaldur smiled. He was going to die, he knew. But he would die by the side of his best friend.

The two boys darted quickly out from their cover, Garth charging a bolt of energy, Kaldur forming two swords. They rushed at Ocean Master, screaming in usion. “For Atlantis!”

* * *

 

_2) J’ohnn_

Despite the concerns raised by some—and on what leg could _Roy_ stand, really—Kaldur had never been suicidal. He had never _desired_ to die.

But sometimes choices had to be made, practical choices. And Kaldur had never been anything less than practical.

It was one of those split second choices. Not one that could go either way—the moment the choice was apparent, Kaldur knew bone deep which road he would take.

Aliens, impossibly strong and deadly aliens with superior technology and overwhelming numbers, had invaded Earth. The rest of the League was gone, the ruins of the Hall were under siege. Their enemy was bearing down on them, screams and gunfire and the roar of their engines growing ever closer.

Death was coming.

But his team was safe, for now.

They had time to send one more through the zeta. Himself, or the Martian Manhunter.

To say that Kaldur performed the dreadful algebra would be a misnomer. The math was much more simple.

J’ohnn was a founder. He knew more of the different non-affiliate heroes scattered around the Earth. He had close ties with Orin, so he would be able to raise Atlantis against the invaders. He was Martian, and a hero among his people. He could get the Martians to come to Earth’s aid.

He was older, more experienced, more powerful. He was _needed_.

Kaldur was a novice sorcerer with maybe half a year of leadership experience. He had never even been to the Tower. What did he know of the secret weapons or allies the League might have?

One of them was going to make it out of this. And Kaldur saw, as simple as a child’s math problem scrawled in the sand of the sea floor, which of them it needed to be.

So he tossed J’ohnn through the zeta, and turned to meet his fate.

It hurt more than he thought it would.

Not just dying. Coming back, watching as his team huddled with their mentors, with each other. Robin couldn’t bear to look at him. Of the five, only Artemis approached him before they all left for the night, retreating to their corners to lick their wounds. She spoke awkwardly, stiltedly joking that of course the blondes on the team died first. Kaldur smiled back, but he could see from her eyes that it looked as empty as her words sounded.

The rest of the team avoided him, for the first few days. It was alright. He understood.

Artemis had been killed. Superboy as well. Robin and Kid Flash had had no way out. M’gann has been murdered by her own uncle out of necessity, to save them all.

But Kaldur had sacrificed himself. He had _chosen_ death. Chosen to leave the rest of them _behind_.

He understood their betrayal, their hurt.

But it didn’t change the math.

* * *

 

_3) Roy_

Kaldur breaking up with Roy was something that had been a long time coming. It wasn’t something he wanted. But.

Artemis had staged an intervention, a week ago. She had come to his apartment, spent hours explaining the ten thousand different ways Roy was self destructing. The ways Kaldur was failing to stop him.

Her sister had been there, as well. And had spoken her own piece. On how it was time for Kaldur to step aside.

On how he’d become ineffective, at best. An enabler, at worst.

Kaldur took a breath, forcing himself to meet Roy’s eyes. They stood together in the entrance to Kaldur’s apartment. Roy had been coming over for another night of obsessively pouring over LuthurCorp security records. “You’ve chosen a dark path. I can’t stop you, but I can’t follow you any further.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” Roy was incredulous, but not angry. Hurt, baffled. It shouldn’t be a surprise, with the way things have gone. Kaldur couldn’t see it, but Artemis had. And had pointed it out. Loudly.

But it warmed a dark corner of Kaldur’s heart, the part that was greedy for admiration, for trust.

Kaldur bit his tongue, looking at Roy’s wide eyes, those arched red brows. His heart hurt. He wanted to say no, of course not. To give in to that greedy need.

He grit his teeth, steeled himself. Cheshire hadn’t been wrong when she said Kaldur wasn’t what Roy needed now. He was too weak, too caught in his own demons to help Roy wrestle his. If he kept trying to keep both of them afloat on his own, they would both drown. “I can’t enable you anymore.”

Kaldur saw it, the moment Roy slammed his walls down. The blue of his eyes iced over, his shoulders tensed. “Like you’ve helped me do anything,” Roy spat, fingers curling into loose fists. “Years, and we’ve gotten nowhere. You’re too busy, too distracted with _babysitting_ people who wouldn’t even need you if you didn’t force them to depend on you.”

Kaldur flinched. He crossed his arms, an unconscious mirror of the defensive fury in front of him.

Roy’s rants about Ollie and the rest should have prepared him to be attacked. Anyone who abandoned the search was the enemy.

Somehow, it had never occurred to Kaldur that Roy would ever see him as the enemy. “That’s not true.”

Roy tossed his head, shifting long hair out his eyes with a snarl. “It is. You need people to be dependent on you. It’s why you put up with it, despite all your bullshit about only filling the roll until Dick steps up. Dick’s been sixteen for a year, Kaldur, and you haven’t once talked about handing over the reins.”

Kaldur frowned. “Dick had been dealing with a death in his family. I will not force him merely because I am tired.”

“No!” Roy snapped, pointing at Kaldur accusingly. “You won’t step down because you’re too much of a coward. You’re afraid that if you step down they might all realize they don’t know a fucking _thing_ about you. You’re afraid you might actually have get close, without that title to protect you.”

Kaldur frowned, reflexive anger digging its claws into his heart. “I got close enough to you.”

Roy laughed, a short mocking bark. “And now you’re cutting fucking anchor, aren’t you? At least Jade is honest. You’re not leaving because you’re tired of helping me. You’re leaving because you’re a coward.”

 _Half right_ , Kaldur thought vaguely in the part of his mind that wasn’t reeling. And that was the crux of it. Cheshire was more honest than Kaldur could ever be.

Kaldur was too attached, too hesitant of alienation to really hold Roy accountable. He always had trouble speaking plainly, to the people he loved. Cheshire had no such qualms. She’d be more help to Roy thank Kaldur could be, even if it wasn’t the kind of help Roy meant.

Which is why it was time to yield to her. She could give Roy what Kaldur never could—a wake up call.

Kaldur mastered himself, slamming a lid on the hurt burning like acid in the back of his throat. He wanted to defend himself against Roy, he wanted to give in, to stay. To prove Roy wrong, show he wasn’t a coward.

But this was about Roy, and what Roy needed. And Kaldur wasn’t it. “Then perhaps she’s the one you should go to, from now on.”

“Fine. Leave. But I won’t stop looking for the real Roy Harper. You think this threat is enough? You think you leaving me hurts more than Ollie? Than Dinah?”

Kaldur swallowed, gritting his teeth. An apology lay on his tongue, natural as a breath. _Of course not. My apologies. I didn’t mean it._

_I’ll come back._

He wanted to take it back. He wanted to give Roy what he wanted—a partner in this relentless chase, this mad man’s quest for a ghost.

What Roy _needed_ was for Kaldur to walk away. To cede the stage, and his part. “The last thing I have ever wanted was to hurt you, Roy.” But he _would_ hurt Roy. He’d hurt him, a thousand times over, before he’d help him go a step further in a journey that was _killing_ him.

Roy laughed, yanking open the door. He threw a bitter smile over a too-thin shoulder, eyes furious beneath the messy fringe of his hair. “You’ve got a fucking fantastic way of showing it. Whatever. I should have known you’d leave, too.”

And then he was out the door, and Kaldur was alone.

* * *

 

_4) the infiltration_

He and Dick had talked it through before. Playing the Light’s own handbook against them, using one of their own as a double agent. Artemis had been an obvious pick, but her family ties were too well severed. Connor, simply too unbelievable. None among their number had the right motivation, the right connections. Heroes didn’t just casually turn. There was always impetus.

An illusion alone wouldn’t work. A new villain would have to establish themselves, spend years working up the ranks. It was too much to ask. And besides, they had the inkling that kind of time simply wasn’t available.

There were countless villains in Belle Reve they could replace, of course, but that trick had been tried. The Light would be fools to fall for it twice. And their enemy was many things. But they were not stupid.

It had just been an idea, tossed around late nights like a worn softball.

Until now.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Dick said for what must have been the fifth time. They were holed up together in the Cave’s library. Ostensibly, Kaldur was mourning, and Dick had come to comfort him.

And he would mourn. One day. When there was time. “It’s an opportunity we cannot allow to pass,” Kaldur replied, staring into the depths of his cooling tea. His body ached from yesterday's battle. He furiously didn’t pay attention to his other, less physical hurts.

“I know you’re tough,” Dick said, looking at Kaldur over folded hands. He slouched low in the armchair across from Kaldur’s own. “But this? This is. It’s a lot. Even for you.”

Kaldur sighed, setting his mug firmly down on the side table. He flinched at the bang, distantly recognizing the irritation creeping its way up his neck in a flush of heat. “We don’t have any other options.”

Dick frowned. “One of your best friends just died,” he said bluntly. “And you just found out your parents and Aquaman have been lying to you your whole life. Your _dad_ is Black Manta. That’s a lot to process.”

Kaldur maintained the careful blank of his expression. Pain screamed behind the wall he’d erected in his own mind, amplified by Dick’s words. “We cannot afford to wait. I will survive.”

“But will you be effective?” Dick asked, and here was the cold edge of practicality that Kaldur needed. The edge the others lacked, the thing that made Kaldur sure that Dick would lead the Team well in his absence. “Will you be able to focus? We’ve talked about how dangerous this could be, Kal. Maybe you’ll survive. But if you’re unstable it won’t matter if the Light thinks you’ve really turned. They won't use you. And if they don’t have a use for you they sure as hell aren't going to tell you anything about what they’re up to.”

Kaldur frowned, steepling his fingers in front of himself. “You have a point,” he admitted. “And if I leave immediately, it will look impulsive. I need them to have confidence in my abilities as much as my intentions.”

Dick looked relieved. “I’m glad you can see that.”

Kaldur nodded, not looking up from his study of the library carpet. “One week,” he decided. “That should be enough time.”

The dull smack that resounded through the room told Kaldur that Dick had slapped his palm against his face in frustration. “You’re the worst at this. A week? Kaldur, that’s nothing.”

Kaldur looked up, eyes steely. “One of the most important elements of the offensive is momentum,” he said calmly. “Every day I delay, the situation building in the shadows becomes more perilous. People are disappearing, Dick. I can’t afford to wait.”

Dick sighed, exhausted eyes looking at Kaldur through the gaps between his fingers. “If you die I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

Kaldur smiled, grim. “I’ll endeavor not to inconvenience you.”

* * *

 

_5) the Cave_

It was the morning of their first mission together as Tigress and Devil Ray. Kaldur woke up early, anxiety curling in his stomach like snakes.

He wasn’t suprised to see that Artemis was already awake, checking her crossbow. “So, today’s the day.”

Kaldur grunted, rising from their shared bed and padding to the washroom. He reached for his toothbrush. “It is.”

Artemis frowned, fiddling with the trigger mechanism. Her mask lay on the small desk that occupied the corner of their shared berth. Her hair was already brushed, pulled up out of her face while she conducted her maintenance. “You nervous?”

Kaldur spit neatly into the sink. “I have confidence in us.”

Finally, Artemis looked up. “Are we really going to do it? Blow up the Cave?”

Kaldur’s breath stuttered. The snakes in his stomach constricted around his heart. Kaldur had had many homes over the years. Since he left for service in the militia at the age of twelve, he had never called one place such as long as he had called the Cave.

At some point in his military training and sorcery schooling, Shayeris has become ‘back home’. Home was his barracks, or later his dorm.

At some point in his role as leader of the Team, the pattern had repeated. Atlantis was ‘back home’. Now, the Cave was home.

“We will do what we have to do,” he replied, finally. The words tasted like copper in his mouth.

“But do we really _have_ to?” Artemis asked, an edge of desperation to her voice. “What will it prove, even? You already killed me, kidnapped and tortured La’gann. Not to mention the shit the crew says you’ve pulled in Atlantis. Hasn’t that been enough?”

Kaldur shook his head. It didn’t help that her questions echoed in his own head. He’d already given up everything, but nothing seemed to be enough. “It isn’t for us to decide what has been enough. My father has still not introduced me to the Light. We have to face the possibility that we will need to do more.”

“More than kidnapping our friends?” Artemis’s hands tightened over the curve of her bow, knuckles going white. “What else do we have to prove?”

“Whatever they ask of us,” Kaldur said, short. “What we are doing requires total commitment, not half measures.”

Artemis snarled, standing. “I understand that. I _died_ , remember? My whole family thinks I’m dead, Kal. I’ve given up _everything_ for this.”

Kaldur looked at her calmly. “And they think me your murderer. I’m a traitor to my country. I have had to do _terrible_ things, Artemis.” Kaldur took a breathe, reminding himself that they are here to help one another, not tear each other’s throats out. “We’re together in this, wherever it goes. I don’t want to destroy the Cave any more than you do. But we’ve both already chosen to do what’s necessary. It is just a place.”

Artemis snorted. “You know as much as I do that is isn’t.”

Kaldur shook his head. “Our team will survive. They will make new memories, somewhere else.”

“What if something goes wrong?” Artemis’s voice was strained. “What if they die?”

Kaldur closed the distance between them and laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “We won’t let that happen.”

Artemis sighed, leaning into the contact. She brought her arms up around Kaldur’s neck in a tight hug. “If it’s just a place then why would they care if we blow it up,” she asked into his shoulder, muffled. “What do they care if we keep our home?”

Kaldur pressed a kiss into the crown of her hair. “They appreciate drama. I cannot say the gesture will be enough to win them, but we cannot take the chance. The world is it stake, my friend.”

Artemis laughed, bitter. “When you put it like that. It’s not even a choice, is it?”

Kaldur hummed. “It is. But it is a plain one.”

“I’m gonna miss it,” she said, voice strained. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, eyes damp against his shirt. He pretended not to notice.

Kaldur squeezed her in return, throat tight. “As will I.”

* * *

 

_+1) going home_

Kaldur blinked bemusedly as the steel door of his Watchtower quarters shut behind him. There were two visitors, unannounced and uninvited, in his small room. “Hello.”

“Oh, hey Kaldur,” Artemis said absently, not deigning to turn around from where she was neatly moving his collection of books from their shelf to a cardboard box at her feet. “You have a _lot_ of poetry. Whitman, Wilde, Lords, Hemphill. Something you need to tell us?”

“I’ve been openly bisexual for years,” Kaldur said faintly. He only heard Artemis as if from far away. He was distracted with something else.

That something—someone—was Roy Harper. Who was staring back at Kaldur, wide eyed, frozen with sheets raised in his hands. Who was standing in Kaldur’s room, above his bed, with trimmed hair and the neat beginnings of a beard. Whose shoulders had begun to fill back out, whose eyes were no longer the dark hollows they’d been the last time they’d spoken.

The last time they’d spoken, over two years ago, the night Kaldur broke things off and Roy had walked out of his life.

“Hey,” Roy said weakly. “Nice place?”

Kaldur crossed his arms, cautious. “It’s a place to sleep.”

Artemis snorted, finally turning as she carefully transferred the last of Kaldur’s books from the shelf to the box at her feet. She looked at the two of them, eyes narrowed. “It’s a fucking cell. Christ, Kaldur, this place is smaller than my freshman dorm room.”

Kaldur couldn’t tear his eyes away from Roy’s. “It serves its purpose.”

Artemis made a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure it helps you self isolate just fine, Kal.”

Kaldur grit his teeth. He was tired of this conversation. Everyone seemed to think they had to have it with him, lately. Dinah, John, seemingly every Leaguer even two years his senior. Like he had somehow proven incapable of taking care of himself, despite surviving under deep cover for over a year. “I am not self isolating. I am _tired_.”

“So take a _break_ ,” Artemis snapped. “Working fourteen hour shifts every day and running away to hide in here like a robot putting itself on recharge isn’t helping, Kal. You never spend time with your friends. With us.”

“I spend practically all of my time with the team,” Kaldur argued. “This is a place to get away. Sometimes I like to be _alone_.”

“You’re always alone,” Roy said, exasperation heavy in the lines of his mouth. “Even when you’re surrounded by people, issuing out orders. That hasn’t changed.”

Kaldur frowned. “More has changed than you think. I’m not who I was two years ago.”

Roy smiled, tired. “Neither am I, thank God.”

“Yes. Congratulations,” Kaldur said stiffly.

“On the kid or finding Roy?”

“Both deserve celebration.”

“Do you want to meet her?”

“Don’t ask him like he has a choice,” Artemis interrupted. “Of course he’s meeting her. He’s her godfather. _And_ he’s coming to live with us.”

Roy glared at Artemis. “I haven’t even _asked_ him yet.”

Artemis scoffed. “It’s extra responsibility. You’re expecting him to say no?”

Roy threw his hands up in the air. “I’m trying to give him a choice! God knows someone has to.”

“I wouldn’t be good at it,” Kaldur interrupted. His heart was in his throat. He had never thought of being someone’s godfather before. Had never thought of himself that ingrained in someone’s life. A permanent fixture, instead of a passing role.

Relied on, but not just for mission orders or reports. A relationship unmarred by the distance demanded by command or subordination, or the emotional scars and broken trust of the past.

He’d never thought of it before, but in that moment there was a flash of image, a lightning day dream of himself on the beach with a young girl with Roy’s hair and her mother’s eyes.

And, gods. He _wanted._

“I’m not a practical choice. I’ve never raised a child. I’m still alien to surface customs, I know nothing of the associated responsibilities. I’m not even a citizen of...well, anywhere. I’m an _exile_.”

“Circling back to that one,” Roy said under his breath. “This isn’t about practical, Kaldur. If something happens to me, Lian has plenty of people who will help with those parts.”

Artemis finished packing the last of Kaldur’s books, dusting her hands off and leaning casually against the now empty shelf. “Her auntie, for one. And her grandma. And Uncle Ollie, Aunt Dinah,” she continued, ticking names off on her fingers. “Honestly, kid has the best family care plan on the planet.”

“Then what purpose would I serve,” Kaldur asked, stepping back towards the door. Artemis and Roy filled the room like it belonged to them. Like it was natural for them to be in Kaldur’s space.

It made him want to run.

Roy sighed, putting the sheets down on Kaldur’s unmade bed. He stepped around it, closing the distance between himself and Kaldur slowly.

Kaldur stepped back further, stopping only when he felt the cold steel of the door against his back. Roy’s eyes were tired, and kind.

“Is it so hard to believe that I just want you to be close to her?” Roy asked quietly, stopping with a foot of distance still between them.

Kaldur’s throat tightened. “Why.”

“Because we love you, you idiot,” Artemis said from behind Roy’s shoulder. “You’re family.”

Kaldur shook his head, not trusting his voice.

Roy’s expression tightened, the strain of regret pulling at the corners of his mouth. He reached out, carefully prying Kaldur’s finger from around his own biceps, folding Kaldur’s hands gently between his own. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For how I acted. For what I put you through. And I know I don’t deserve another chance, at what we had. So I’m not going to ask for it. But I. I meant what I said. That you don’t let people get close. You have to see that, by now.”

Kaldur swallowed, eyes flicking over Roy’s shoulders to look at Artemis. She raised a brow at him. “I’m backing Red up on this one, Kal,” she said. “I love you, but. You kinda suck at the whole being a person thing.”

“Then why try to get closer?” Kaldur finally managed to ask. “Maybe I stay away for a reason. Maybe I can’t give you what you’re looking for.”

Roy’s hands tightened around his own. “You don’t need to _give_ us anything,” he said. “You’re enough.”

Kaldur breathed deep, air shuddering through him. “I don’t think I am.”

Artemis came up, leaving her position at the shelf. Unhesitating, she wrapped her arms around both his and Roy’s shoulders. “Kal. _You_ don’t get to make that choice.”

Kaldur blinked, eyes wet. Carefully, he withdrew his hands from Roy’s. Roy’s face crumpled, and then lit up as Kaldur wrapped his own arms around his friends’ waists. Kaldur smiled in return, weak and watery but very real. His heart still hurt, but there was a warmth to the ache that hadn’t been there before. “Perhaps that’s for the best.”


End file.
